I come from...
Dear all
As some of you know, I grew up in south Wales and now live in Sussex. I first began to write about where I had come from when I read Natalie Goldberg’s book Writing Down the Bones. In the chapter entitled: ‘Going Home’ (p.143), she says:
It is very important to go home if you want your work to be whole. You don’t have to move in with your parents again and collect a weekly allowance, but you must claim where you come from and look deep into it. Come to honor and embrace it, or at the least, accept it.
She goes on to say that where you come from ‘affects your writing. Even in the patterns of language.’ Tuning into the patterns of anglo Welsh language helped me create the idiolect of Mari, the main character in my short story, Reach Out, I’ll Be There. I talk more about the process of writing the story in this podcast.
This story was part of my work researching and rewriting stories of Welsh women to amplify their voices. During this time, I also visited Llyn Y Fan Fach with my mother to explore the story of the lady of the lake there.
I used images, feelings and language from my childhood when I wrote this part of my poem inspired by a selkie story (as yet unpublished). It is the child’s voice:
i come from a family of fishermen out before dawn on the sands stretching for miles shimmering in the rising sun wiggly mounds of casts give a clue to the lug worm hiding places houses under our feet. my hands turn pink in the cold i hide them in my pockets kick the casts flatten them with wellies smooth down the sand sink them in watch the puddle appear splash jump run to the edge of the sea play chicken with the waves it’s picking to rain wind’s stinging my face with the sand and salt spray my name or a sound just like my name drifts on the wind the mermaids are calling sea sprites dolphins seals sharks rain comes colder now hair sticking shivering i dig my hands in for bait right here at the edge they disappear in the white foam pulling up handfuls of sand through the sea i get shells no worms my feet sink just the tops of wellies left no wellies the sea gushes in fills them up shiver rush I want them to see my missing feet how it looks as if they’ve gone for good mama grabs me under arms pulls me up globs of sand plop down from my feet she spins me round i squeal shriek laugh look in her eyes as we slow right down and she crouches skirt in sand tears run down her face one at a time and she tells me the story of belonging in the sea with seals and how one day i could go there too but she couldn’t go back until she finds her sealskin and i knew then what papa was hiding in the locked chest in the attic and i took her hand to show her
Having begun this part of the poem with the words, ‘I come from…’ and found it a powerful thing to write, I was delighted when I came across (thanks to Jess Moriarty) Dean Atta’s poem, ‘I Come From’. Here is a YouTube video of him speaking the poem. And following the I remember… exercise of a couple of weeks ago, I took this poem into my Thursday morning workshop as inspiration. It is a simple format with a moving effect.
Here is my immediate response as it appeared in my notebook (only slightly edited!) and unfinished:
Photo: Me circa 1976.
I come from a caravan park and a red brick block of flats
I come from madness and adventure
I come from breaking rules and following every single one
I come from learning Welsh songs by heart and bassoon lessons
I come from joining in and being scared to leave
I come from cockles and lavabread, Welsh cakes and bara brith
I come from beach combing, car boot sales and hours at the library
I come from stories so many stories
I come from dyw yn ôl and smile and the world smiles with you
I come from Joe’s ice cream, jumping over the waves
knocking a tin can down with a stone, crazy golf
I come from fishermen and sailors, travellers and seekers
I come from buttercups shone under my chin and daisy chains
loves me, loves me not, dandelions make you wet the bed
I come from jumble sales and make, do and mend
Writing Prompt
So you can guess your writing prompt this week…
Where do you come from?
You don’t have to repeat ‘I come from…’ with every line, but begin with this and see where you end up.
On Publishing
I got a rejection from Smokelong Quarterly following last week’s submission. I was pleased they let me know really soon, but I still felt momentarily a little glum with the news. Thankfully, I have been doing this for long enough that I know it takes persistence and finding the right home for my writing (rather than my writing being not good enough!). But as I want this sending out to be an ongoing process, I’ve decided to send a piece out three times and then if it doesn’t get accepted, I will try to revise and edit before sending out again.
Next on my list is my birch tree essay! Finally! I got feedback from my mentor this week, so I’m ready to revise and submit. I’ll be sending it to Hinterland, because it is an excellent UK journal for creative non-fiction.
Summer workshops
These are the workshops I have available this summer:
The Writer’s Notebook (Chequer Mead) block of five weeks starting on 8 June
The Friday Retreat (nr. Barcombe): 9 June and 14 July.
Journalling Group (Chequer Mead): 20 June and 18 July (not yet on website).
I have a discount code if you spend more than £150 when booking, please use: HLW01 for 10% off.
Until next time…
Mel
This newsletter was created by Mel Parks, a writer, researcher and workshop facilitator based in Sussex, UK. Mel runs writing workshops locally and on Zoom and researches creativity in midlife as well as her personal connection to nature. She has been widely published and is currently working on a series of moon and plant-inspired essays.